


A Set of Four Lion Cubs

by seri-kun (vanijane)



Series: The Brave Snake (Gryffindor Draco AU) [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Gen, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Remembering the Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 11:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanijane/pseuds/seri-kun
Summary: Four students bearing the mark of the golden lion, as mischievous as foxes and thick as thieves. The students who challenged her very patience time and time again, the very students who knew the halls of the castle more than any other teacher, and the very students who she mourned ten years ago.A troll has breached the castle wards, and Minerva will not lose anymore children.





	A Set of Four Lion Cubs

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [**this**](http://psychofluffy.tumblr.com/post/148832222844/i-am-tempted-to-write-in-the-verse-but-the).  
>    
>  The series isn't *totally* dead, I just have the worst time management. I didn't realize a couple years have passed. Oops. Anyway, if you've been here from the start, thanks for sticking out. *offers a round of butterbeer*

When Quirrell barreled in the Great Hall, screaming like a banshee without any tact causing the _worst_ uproar amongst the students in the last ten years, Minerva McGonagall’s first reaction was to hex him. The fact that he fainted only gave priority to her next concern: the students.

Minerva was immediately on her feet, meeting the eyes of the Gryffindor prefects – Percy Weasley was the sharpest among them. Stern, rigid but his heart was in his post and he never made a reason for her to ever regret choosing him. As Albus gave out instructions for the students to return to their common rooms under the guidance of the prefects, Minerva knew her Gryffindors were in good hands.

As the students hastily left the room in fight, Minerva was already taking the back exit with purposeful steps that bespoke her Gryffindor affiliation. Leaving all her thoughts and impressions about the weak-kneed Professor Quirrell in the Great Hall where he fainted on himself.

It was curious how a troll managed to enter Hogwarts. They had wards, precautions for almost everything _and_ a mentally deficit creature such as a troll managed to get it without tripping the wards to alert Albus or herself –

“Minerva,” Filius squeaked rather seriously, “let’s split into groups – it would be faster.”

“A sound idea, Filius,” she nodded and faced the other professors, giving quick assignments. Each of them knew the castle by heart and would do anything to protect it and the students, she had no doubt and placed faith in her colleagues before turning on her heel.

“Minerva!” Pamona called after her, “where are you going?”

“Down this hall, I suggest you start with yours,” Minerva replied curtly and continued her way down the hall.

As she scouted the dungeons, Minerva was suddenly brought back several years ago when there was a group of students who so recklessly prowled these halls without any care in the world beyond the forests and the village. She remembered with painful apprehension how those students, those boys always managed to get through the wards and arrive in places within the castle or out of it where they shouldn’t be.

But it had been too long since any of the more secretive passages of the castle were used and Minerva never realised how she missed those simpler times, the very calm before the worst storm the befell them all.

It was impossible for any troll to stumble into one of the passages and make it inside the castle, they were very big and the passages were small for the very purpose that they were a secret. She had very little doubt that someone led the troll inside – but didn’t have a person to name.

They held a grave secret within the castle, one that weighed heavily on her shoulders and one that she questioned Albus of every time she thought about it. She understood why they had to protect it but she couldn’t bear the thought of any student accidentally stumbling into the third corridor and meeting their death – the castle already met far too many deaths of its own students.

Though not many people knew they harboured the stone inside Hogwarts, it wasn’t very difficult to guess. Albus and Nicholas were very close with their research and the followers of He Who Must Not Be Named were tenacious and stubborn with their insane belief of him. Evil though they were, Minerva knew several people who had fought on that side and knew they were very skilled with their magic. No one ever said that greatness didn’t come in black or white, and many of them had to learn that in a most deadly way.

The question of who could ever lead a troll inside of Hogwarts hung heavily on her shoulders. None of the wards were tripped, so the culprit had regular access to Hogwarts. Someone who was skilled enough with magical creatures and perhaps defensive magic to battle the troll in case it didn’t pay attention and went on a rampage – there really was only one person who came up in her mind and he laid unconscious in the Great Hall.

No matter how poor her impressions were on Quirrell, she didn’t think he would be foolish enough to lead a troll inside the castle. Quirrell had never been a Death Eater, there was a time when he didn’t stutter but that was a memory of a long ago yesterday. He would squeak and shudder at the smallest and perfectly harmless of things – and she saw him going pale at the sight of a floating feather the other day. It was simply too _wrong_ to think he was capable of let alone leading a troll when he couldn’t even hear his own students!

_“HELP!”_

Minerva nearly fell over herself as she heard the horrific cry. Familiar, it was too familiar, she heard that voice every time she held her first year Transfiguration classes and every time she passed by the library or Gryffindor common rooms – though she never heard of the voice ever this loud or ever this scared.

“Miss Granger!” She said in a worried whisper and whipped herself towards the direction of the voice, each step heavy and harried. She could _hear_ the growls of the troll, the sound of walls breaking and more yells.

 _Oh Merlin_ let her cleverest little witch be all right.

“D-Deputy H-Headmistress!” Quirrell shrieked, stuttering loudly when Minerva nearly collided into him as she made a sharp turn.

“Professor Quirrell!”

“Deputy Headmistress,” another voice drawled, lazy and coldly curt. Minerva didn’t need to turn to know that it was Severus. “We heard a scream –”

“Then don’t stand in my way! Move!” Minerva exclaimed, brandishing her wand at Quirrell who threw himself to the side as if she swatted him – how she wished she did. “If you wish to be of use then follow me!”

She didn’t look back; she couldn’t afford to waste another second. She ran down the halls, wand held up, as fast as her legs could take her. Another scream and she cursed the anti-apparition wards, she could have been there to stop the troll before it even dared to show itself to a student.

A loud thud, the floor vibrating with it and Minerva feared the worst. It was suddenly quiet save for the sound of rain from outside and she _prayed_ that the silence didn’t mean that they had to send home another lifeless body of a student. She had enough of her own children dying on her before their time.

She flicked her wand, making the doors open when she ran through them. _So close and –_

“Oh my goodness!”

She nearly fell when she stopped at the sight of a large troll’s head on the ground, surrounded by rubble, water and four students who should have been in their common rooms, safe and protected within Gryffindor tower.

“Ex – Explain yourselves, all of you!”

She looked into the stunned and scared faces of her students – of her Gryffindor children and was suddenly taken back several years ago. Four students bearing the mark of the golden lion, as mischievous as foxes and thick as thieves. The students who challenged her very patience time and time again, the very students who knew the halls of the castle more than any other teacher and the very students who she mourned ten years ago.

“It’s my fault, Professor McGonagall.”

“Miss Granger?” Her voice quivered as she stared at her most promising witch, for a moment not hearing _her_ and seeing someone else: a boy with scars marring his face and body, a boy who possessed a brilliant mind. A boy who was shy and only ever blossomed under the bond he shared with his friends.

“I went looking for troll, I’ve read about them and thought I could handle it – but I was wrong…if Harry, Ron and Draco hadn’t come and found me…I’d probably be dead.”

Minerva was quick to reprimand them, too used to disobedient and foolish students. But she fought to keep her voice stern and unyielding. Quickly, she sent them off to return to the tower and left before could ascertain for sure they followed her but she couldn’t stay there for long as past and present flitted in her mind.

It was like seeing a ghost for the first time and reliving a distant memory. A group of mischievous children, misunderstood they were and found the missing pieces within themselves in each other. A group of children who she wanted to hold in her arms yet never want to see again because for them to be seen together could only spell trouble.

Minerva should have known, she realised belatedly as she looked at her children. One of them confused and troubled who came crying to her during the loneliest nights, one of them the very image of a boy she never recovered from saying goodbye, one of them misunderstood and not seen for his potential and one of them looked down upon and shunned.

She stopped once more in the halls, closing her eyes as she listened to the laughter that echoed down the halls – such joyous and childish laughter, reminded her once more of the past when the halls were empty but echoed of the laughter of four hidden beneath a cloak.

Minerva opened her eyes and then she was back to the present, no longer seeing ghosts but the children with her now. So very different but so alike and Minerva was scared because the last set of four she had led a painful life. Potter had already begun that path, long before he could choose, and Malfoy was already weighed down by the legacy of his family. The wheels of fate were turning and it felt a lot like watching a devastating train wreck waiting to happen.

She lost her first set of four – she _would not_ bare to lose any more children. She would protect and equip them with the weapons they needed, and Voldemort would have to get past her cold, lifeless body before he could get near any of her children again.


End file.
